


Grasping at Fingers and Other Fleeting Things

by Atsvie



Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Angst, Emotional Constipation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsvie/pseuds/Atsvie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This thing between them is confusing enough without the cultural and racial barriers, but Noh-Varr doesn’t get it. </p>
<p>Or in which Noh-Varr may love him and Tommy Shepherd doesn't do emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grasping at Fingers and Other Fleeting Things

This thing between them is confusing enough without the cultural and racial barriers, but Noh-Varr doesn’t _get it._ Because Tommy comes to him when he needs someone to make him forget the world, someone to make him forget _himself_ , and yet he leaves just as quickly. And there’s the physical component when they’re alone, where Tommy tends to run his mouth a little less and Noh thinks that things are getting a little easier until they’re not.

Until Tommy speeds off again, a flurry of movements and words unsaid and leaves Noh with an odd wrenching in his chest. He’s a Kree, but he’s capable of emotion and he recognizes that there’s _something_ there. That he wants to reach out and grasp Tommy’s hand and slow him down just for a few seconds, just so that he’ll look at him, really look at him. Even in the moment where Tommy is writhing, his body wrapped around Noh’s in what is the epitome of intimacy, he never really has the boy. Not really.

Sex is sex. That’s a concept that is carried through universally, apparently, so that’s something that Noh understands. That to Tommy he’s a good fuck and an even better fight. And it should be better that way, that way all of their strings are sorted and unattached. But it’s getting harder, because Noh finds himself _wanting,_ wanting like he wants to bury himself in the Earthen culture and beautiful things. Tommy is one of those things because he’s beautiful in the way that is entirely raw and unbridled energy. It’s fascinating like a flame, something he feels more and more drawn to despite knowing that at some point it will flare and burn him.

And oh, does it burn.

The light hasn’t even began creeping through the curtains when Noh’s eyes flutter open and he sees Tommy tugging up his jeans. His mind is still thick with sleep but he hates this a little, that he can just so nonchalantly detach himself from everything. Just throw on his clothes and leave after everything.

(What makes this any different from the others he’s had, Noh wonders with a deep frown, mind rattling through blurry faces and past nights. He hadn’t ever wanted Kate the way he wants to keep Tommy—not quite tame him, because he loves the energy just as much as it grates on his nerves. Why is it that this obnoxious, emotionally distant human boy has him going so crazy?)

"Stay," Noh says, and it’s not a question or a suggestion. He reaches out for Tommy’s wrist but Tommy just snorts and pulls away faster than he can register.

"I’m good, no post coital cuddling, thanks," Tommy quips and throws on his wrinkled t-shirt.

And it’s ridiculous how much he just wants Tommy to stay, just to be here with him and he doesn’t even quite understand it all himself. He just knows that he _wants_ and doesn’t know how to articulate this. And part of him wants to blame it on the cultural obliviousness, that this is another thing he doesn’t understand like when Tommy had tried to explain the appeal of dubstep (which he still considers thoughtless noise) but he doesn’t think he knows how to approach this in any corner of the universe.

"Then don’t," Noh starts, "Don’t be affectionate." He doesn’t think about why it’s hard enough to say that, why the words burn because Noh isn’t affectionate so much as he is just tactile. "Come back to bed. For sex."

Noh realizes that he’s offering sex to keep him here, but he finds that he doesn’t care as much when Tommy considers the statement and tugs his shirt back off.

"I want you on your back," Tommy murmurs, both hands on the hard plane of Noh’s chest as he pushes him back against the mattress. And god, Noh is partially entranced by the small nuances in his expression, his eyes following the small movements of the tip of Tommy’s touch across the corner of his mouth.

He straddles his waist, squirming out of his jeans against ungracefully and wraps his fingers around their half hard cocks. This will be a quick fuck, then, Noh thinks, but it’s still better than nothing. Tommy is still here, touching him with impatient fingers and a thudding heartbeat. And he can still watch the way his eyelids flutter and his lips part when he works his fingers into him, stretches him open with two and draws out breathy moans.

"Have you ever loved someone?" Noh asks, genuine curiosity coloring his voice. And Tommy is sinking down onto his cock, hissing out a profanity, and rolling his hips in a series of motions that make Noh grasp at his hips to tether him back down. He guides his movements, the way that he subtly lifts his hips up to fit a little deeper inside him, but never too fast, never as fast as Tommy wants.

"This is not the time for this shit," Tommy says through a low moan, eyes screwing shut as if he’s trying to concentrate on everything but the eyes that are watching him, everything but the body he’s fucking himself on.

"Answer me," Noh says, and it’s blunt and there’s not much tact, but he’s persuasive in his own right when he leans forward and catches the skin of his collar bone with his teeth, biting at him until Tommy yelps.

"No," Tommy finally admits, and Noh wishes he could tell if he were lying or not. He wishes that Tommy were lying, that there’s more attachment to this than there ever really could be.

He doesn’t get it, doesn’t get why this is hard and confusing and he hates it a little. So Noh tries to force the thought from his mind, does what Tommy does and focuses on nothing but the sex, the way that Tommy feels around his cock and takes out all of the frustrations bubbling up inside of him out on Tommy’s body, fucking him that much rougher and sucking angry marks onto his neck.

He flips them over, pinning Tommy against the mattress as he slams into him, his hands under his knees and pointedly doesn’t think about how gorgeous he looks with his face flushed and expression blissed out. He fucks Tommy until he can’t think, until his muscles are screaming and he’s coming inside him.

And he leaves Tommy lying there when he’s done, panting with come dripping down his thighs, and Noh-Varr is the one that tugs on his jeans and leaves this time. Tommy probably goes back to sleep in his bed but Noh doesn’t think about the way his sheets will smell like the speedster now, about how he looks when he arches his back and comes, about how he just wants to break down all the barriers separating himself and Tommy.

Because maybe Noh-Varr is in love with Tommy and that’s the worst condition possible. When Tommy doesn’t love and won’t love him and he’s craving for something that he can’t have with every little irrational nerve in his body.


End file.
